


Hurts So Good

by TibbieTibbs



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Choking, Cock Slut, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Dominant Boba Fett, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Minor Violence, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Punishment, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Sexual Harassment, Some demeaning phrases towards women, Spanking, Top Boba Fett, Vaginal Sex, safe sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 08:09:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29930469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TibbieTibbs/pseuds/TibbieTibbs
Summary: Boba Fett has just two rules. Well, that's not exactly true - he's a bit of a control freak (something you'd never say out loud), and has alotof rules. But there's two main ones that he said you should never, ever break: Do not let any quarry see you, and if they happen to do so -  Maker forbid -do nottalk to them.Just your luck he happens to catch you the one time you accidently do both.
Relationships: Boba Fett & You, Boba Fett/Original Female Character(s), Boba Fett/Reader
Comments: 14
Kudos: 96





	Hurts So Good

Boba Fett has just two rules. Well, that's not exactly true - he's a bit of a control freak (something you'd never say out loud), and has a _lot_ of rules. But there's two main ones that he said you should never, ever break: Do not let any quarry see you, and if they happen to do so - Maker forbid - _do not_ talk to them.

Just your luck he happens to catch you the one time you accidently do both.

The first time he told you these rules you scoffed, rolling your eyes so hard that if your mother saw, she’d have said they’d get stuck like that. But instead, Boba made certain you couldn’t sit comfortably for a week. You got the message pretty quickly after that - his ship, _his_ rules. 

\-----

That morning you woke up alone, curled in your shared bunk with the blankets piled up high over you. You stepped out of bed, hissing quietly as your toes touched the cold durasteel floor. Pulling a shirt from the top of a neat stack of clothes, you headed towards the refresher that adjoined the room. 

You used the sonic shower quickly, the sweat from the night evaporating off your skin. It was never as good as a real shower, but it was hard to pull off on a ship, even one as nice as the _Slave I._

Tugging the shirt over your head, you realized it wasn’t yours when the soft material pooled against your thighs. You smiled as you raised the fabric to your nose, inhaling the masculine scent of leather, ship grease, and something else - something distinctly _Boba_. Maker, you missed him. 

Not bothering to change - what difference would it make since he was out on a hunt - you headed down the tall ladder in search of your one true vice - _caf_.

\-----

As you step off the ladder and into the main corridor of the _Slave I_ you freeze - the holding cell wasn’t empty like you thought. Two figures, a tall, large human with thick hair and beard is sitting on the floor, flanked by a tall, broad, green-skinned alien with shiny, dark hair pulled back in a topknot. 

Turning quickly on your heel, you start to make your way back down the corridor when you hear it. A soft, sweet voice that seems to weave over your skin, coaxing you to listen and obey. 

_“Pretty girl, don’t run.”_

You freeze and make the second biggest mistake of the day. Risking a glance over your shoulder, you make eye contact with the alien, his amber eyes boring into yours. 

Even your most basic instincts tell you to turn and run but your brain feels hazy, your thoughts slipping through your fingers like smoke. Rotating slowly, you find yourself walking back towards them, unsure how or when this decision was even made.

You stop a few feet away from the holding cell, trapped into eye contact with the second figure. A quick blur moves at the edge of your vision, and although part of you senses it coming, you just can’t move away fast enough. The first man’s hand shoots through the bars, wrapping tightly around your wrist and pulling to yank you closer to them. 

Boba isn’t a fool, the bars were built to be close-set, and the man is not able to pull your arm back through the bars. But his grip is strong, and tears spring to your eyes as he presses down, fingers bruisingly tight around your wrist. 

The pain offers the briefest moment of clarity, and you grit your teeth, tearing your eyes away from the green-skinned alien and towards the human. Your lip curls back in a snarl as you try to rip your arm away, but he’s holding on too tightly.

“Look what we have here.” His voice is gravely, his eyes rake over you in a way that makes you shiver, “I didn’t know the mighty Boba Fett kept a pet. I bet you’re just his little cock slut, aren’t you?” 

“ _Surprising, I didn’t think he was still capable_ ,” the second interjects with a smooth voice, his lip curling up cruelly. “ _I heard he was more droid than man after that Sarlacc chewed him up and spat him back out_.”

This was bad. Really, _really_ fucking bad. You were mentally telling yourself to _move_ , to _run_ , to do _anything_ , but it was like your legs were on another frequency. Something was wrong, but you couldn’t focus long enough to figure out what. 

“Tell you what sweet thing.” The man leers, trying to tug you closer to the latched door, “Help us out - open up this door. We’ll show you how real men fuck.” 

None of you saw it coming, the blaster sailing through the air, the crunch of the butt as it crashes against the man’s wrist. The man’s loud grunt of pain as the bones shatter, the way your mind clicks back into place as you hit the floor, your own wrist cradled protectively against your chest.

Boba Fett stands at the entrance to the corridor, the bright lighting behind him casting long shadows across the durasteel flooring. His hand grips the barrel of the blaster, flipping it around effortlessly on his finger to catch it in his palm. 

Fingers moving impossibly fast, he leans to the side, the red bolt firing from the end of his gun, hitting the alien square in the meat of his shoulder. With a grunt he collapses against the wall, his other hand raising to clutch the charred flesh. 

Boba’s helmet tips down and then his hand is closing roughly around your bicep, hauling you to your feet. His steps echo down the hallway as he closes the hatch to the outside, pulling you after him and leaving the two captives to nurse their wounds. 

You stumble behind him, struggling to keep up with his long stride. He just shot a man but _Stars_ , you couldn’t look away. It had been a _long_ two weeks, and you had missed him immensely. After traveling with him for a while you no longer worried - he _always_ came back, but that didn’t do much to quell the loneliness or the yearning while he was gone.

Halting at the end of the hall, he twists around, his hand still gripping you tightly. You take a tentative step back as he approaches, you back bumping against the smooth wall of the ship. 

You sent up a quick prayer to the Maker that he was happy to see you, but luck was decidedly _not_ on your side today. 

“And what, _princess_ ,” he growls, teeth grinding beneath his mask, “Was _that_ , exactly?”

Your mouth opens to answer, but he’s not looking for a response. 

“Do you know why I have those rules?” His voice is barely above a whisper, lost in the sounds of his ship, “Because it keeps a target off my back. And more importantly, _yours_.” 

You gulp, ducking your head. He eyes you through the mask, irritation radiating off him in waves. His bulk is intimidating, his broad frame eclipsing the overhead light, casting his helmet in shadow.

“And here you are, five _fucking_ minutes after I arrive home after a hunt, breaking both of them.” 

"Please don’t be angry." You squeak out, your eyes darting to his closed fist, the spread stance of his legs, anywhere but his helmet. 

" _Angry_? No, little one." His voice is cruel, his words slow and deliberate, "I'm fucking _livid_. You should know better, especially around a kriffing _Falleen_. "

"I-I'm sorry." You hand your head, hair falling over your face as you wrap your arms around your middle. 

His helmet tips to the side, the hand gripping your arm loosening as his voice soothes, "I know you are sweetheart, but just saying it is not going to cut it." 

You shiver, knowing that tone. His low, gravely voice sends a jolt of lightning down your spine, settling hotly in your lower stomach. 

"Get your ass up to the cockpit, I'll join you in a moment." He dismisses you, stepping back to let you pass. 

You move around him to leave and he pauses, taking you fully in for the first time. You were wearing a long black shirt, the collar high and the sleeves pushed back to your elbows, the hem falling down to mid-thigh.

“Is that _mine_?” His voice is a low, angry growl, his arm shooting out to stop you again before you can leave.

You make a show of glancing down, smoothing your free hand down the knit fabric. Feigning surprise, you reply with a shrug, “I guess it is.”

“Get up to the cockpit, _now_.”

He’s in one of _those_ moods. You shiver in anticipation, doing as he commands. Heading for the yellow ladder, you put a swing in your step, knowing he was watching. 

As you ascend the ladder you, you reflect back. The truth was, this wasn’t _entirely_ your fault. You honestly thought he wouldn’t be back until tomorrow evening at the earliest. Not that it would change anything, Boba did not accept excuses. You might actually be in deeper trouble if you admitted that you hadn’t noticed the additions on the ship because you were too busy thinking about _breakfast_. 

But Maker was it embarrassing, running into the quarry like that. You could blame it on the fact you just woke up, but you thought that maybe it was a sign you were getting soft - been behind the scenes too long instead of out in the field. 

You had spent your youth running around smuggling rings, jumping from crew to crew as the years ticked by. That had made you useful, why Boba had picked you up in the first place. You had connections - good ones - a decent mix of skills, and you were pretty handy with a blaster in a pinch.

And in true smuggler fashion, you had learned to use your smile to charm your way out of most situations, well - those not involving Falleen pheromones that is. 

And there were _other_ ways you were useful. Those _other_ ways applied to Boba himself, too. Your mind was often racing, running through to-do lists once the two of you returned to the Palace, what the optimal path was to the next big bounty, current rations, ammo inventory, the list was endless.

Sometimes you just needed to _shut down_ , to have someone take control. To turn your brain off, just for a little while. And _that_ was what Boba was good at - well, among a million other things that granted him the title as the galaxy’s most infamous bounty hunter. 

You stand off to the side of the cockpit as he enters, fingers knitting together. He doesn’t even look at you as he settles in the pilot’s seat, the controls set between his spread thighs.

“ _Sit_.” He growls, and you do.

It’s difficult to maneuver the space since Boba takes off while lying down, thanks to the inner workings of the _Slave I._ In the beginning you stayed below in the navigation room when he took off, but by now you’ve gotten used to a lot of the unique features about this ship. 

You wince as the cold floor hits your bare skin, legs parting on either side of his calf as you scoot close to him. Resting your cheek on the outside of his thigh, your chin brushes the soft black robes as your back braces back against his seat. 

His helmet stays tilted up, still ignoring you as he goes through the pre-flight checklist, the ship groaning as it rotates upright. Your legs and arms wrap around his leg, holding yourself close and moving with him as the ship flips upright, launching itself into the atmosphere. 

Boba stays silent a long time, letting you wait in quiet anticipation as he maneuvers over ice-covered landscapes before moving up, into space. The stars explode into bright lines as he pulls the level and jumps to hyperspace, the planet falling away beneath you. 

Your head rests on his thigh the whole time, fingers wrapped in the soft material of his trousers. His leg flexes under your cheek as he pilots, and you watch the way his hand grips the thick control, listening to the creaking of the ship in the quiet of the room. 

Eventually his hand moves, keying a sequence that you’ve learned activates the ship’s autopilot. Your head lifts, looking up as his helmet. It’s tilted down at you, the streaks from hyperspace glinting off the dark T of his visor. 

You bite your lip as his glove leaves the controls, dropping down to cup the back of your head. His fingers card through your hair, and you lean into the soft touch, knowing the storm is coming. 

“Up, little one.” His voice is low, close to a purr as he pats his thighs.

Pulling yourself up, you swing a leg around, making to straddle his broad thighs. Boba huffs a rough, low laugh, his hands wrapping around your waist as he lifts you up and off of him. 

“Oh _no_ , this is your punishment. _Bend_ over my knees, princess.” His voice dips down to a growl, “I want them to hear the way I make you scream. Give them a _new_ rumor to spread.”

 _Oh_. You flush, sliding off him as you bend at the waist, pressing your chest and stomach over the wide, muscular spanse of his thighs. He shifts them beneath you, helping settle your weight, the curve of your ass high in the air. He makes a show of peeling his gloves off, dropping each one to the floor of the ship. 

Boba’s hand smooths down your back, brushing over his shirt that you are wearing, until he reaches the hem. Deft fingers curl around the edge, tugging it up around your waist. The cool air hits your skin, making your muscles jump and the hairs stand up on your arms. 

He hums, a deep rumble in his chest as his hand spans the expanse of your bare skin. You hadn’t bothered putting anything else on besides the shirt this morning, you hadn’t seen the point. He wants to say something, to scold you for trapezing around in practically nothing, but secretly he does not mind one bit. 

“Tatooine?” Boba asks, helmet training on your face.

“ _Tatooine_ ,” You nod. Your established safe word, the planet where you met. 

His question is a double-edged sword, you’re grateful he asks you, always conscious of your well-being. But you also realize that this means he’s not planning on being gentle.

Satisfied, Boba’s hand glides down the curve of your back, tracing your spine until it rests on the swell your ass, his large hand palming a cheek and squeezing. 

“Fifteen, princess.” He purrs, “Five each for breaking my rules, and another five for that little attitude of yours.”

His open palm is already striking down before you can brace yourself, the slap ringing through the room combining with your strangling gasp. You right yourself with an effort, his unexpected spank had sent you sprawling across his lap. 

“Count them.” 

“O-One.” You breathe, skin stinging. 

He spanks you again, and then again, each harsh slap striking down on another part of your flesh. He is careful to spread his marks out, creating a pretty flush that creeps across both your cheeks. Your voice trembles as you count with him, fighting the urge to tense up in expectation of the blows. 

“Such a good little girl, taking her punishment.” Boba croons, after you take a particularly hard slap to the outside edge of your left cheek. 

“Six.” Your eyes close with his praise, holding your breath as the next slap comes on the other side. 

Maker, it feels _good_. Yes, the spanks hurt but there’s pleasure in it, something Boba was incredible at balancing. He aimed each hit expertly, covering your flesh with practiced expertise, his hands soothing your reddening skin afterwards. 

Your body aches for him, and you press your legs together in an attempt to get some friction. Your thighs slide against each other, slicked with your arousal, but it’s not nearly enough. 

“Stop squirming or I’ll get the belt.” He growls, another spank jolting you across his lap.

You suck in a breath - he wouldn’t _dare_. But just in case, you do listen, your fingers clamping down on his thigh in an attempt to distract yourself. 

“Eight.”

Boba’s next spank startles you, his open palm moves at the last second, slapping against your cunt instead. He is gentle, his fingertips pressing against your hot, wet flesh for the barest moment before pulling back. 

“ _Again_.” You beg and he does, a little harder this time, the strike crossing the line from pleasure into pain, making you writhe against him, your chest and stomach pressing into his thighs. 

“Ten.”

His large hand rubs against your flushed cheek, fingers sliding down achingly slow to brush your inner thigh. You whimper against his leg as his fingertips circle your skin, ghosting the sensitive flesh before another spank rains down. 

Your body jolts forward with the blow, unable to hold back a cry of surprise. 

“Love the sweet noises you make.” He hums, his fingers carefully making their way up, barely brushing your outer lips.

“Please,” you beg, turning your face so you can see him. Tears prick your eyes from the pain, clinging to thick lashes.

He’s taken his helmet off when you weren’t looking, he always likes to see how you come apart with his own eyes. You meet them and they are heated, the dark brown hue on fire with lust. 

“Please what?” He asks as if he doesn’t know. 

“Touch me, please.”

“I _am_ touching you, princess.” The corner of his lips tilt up, a beautiful, but teeth-grindingly smug expression crossing his features.

“I need, I need more.” You pant, your lips parting open in a groan as you shift against him. 

“But we’re not done yet.” He uses his hand to push you back down, another slap echoing throughout the small chamber. 

You cry out again, unable to hold it in. Your skin feels like it’s on fire, but then his fingers are _there_ , parting your lower lips with thick, rough fingers.

“You _are_ a dirty girl, aren’t you?” He asks in mock surprise, “Crying big Nashtah tears while your cunt is _dripping_ for me.”

He punctuates his words with a thrust of his hand, his fingers sinking deep and curling up into you. You moan in agonized relief, but then he’s pulling back, leaving you empty and clenching. 

“Not yet. You have four more.”

You grit your teeth before nodding, wanting to be good for him. 

His left hand drifts down again, curving between your legs and pressing against your clit, trapping it with his strong fingers. Your breath whooshes out as his palm cups you, the heel of his hand grinding into your center.

Boba’s other hand raises, sailing down quickly to smack your ass, your hips rocking and pressing your clit against his fingers.

Maker, it feels like heaven, the heady mix of pleasure and pain and the way this _man_ handles you. The control he has over you does things to him too - you have been able to feel his thick erection pressing into your stomach since the first blow. 

“Do you have three more for Daddy?” His voice drops, low and smooth as he flexes his two fingers against you.

Oh, he’s _definitely_ in one of those moods. You quake against him, a low moan ripping from your throat at his words. The things his words, _his voice_ , do to you. 

“Yes, Daddy.” You groan out, bracing your legs for the blow. 

He takes his sweet time, letting his fingers press against your clit, slippery with slick, before his other hand swings down, colliding with your soft skin. He does this another more time, the jolt pressing you against his hand, the friction on your clit sending you closer to the edge. 

“Good girl.” He praises as you take the last one, your skin painted a bright, aching red, “Aren’t you going to thank me, little one?”

Boba’s fingers trap your clit, holding you in a long, blissful moment of quivering suspense as he waits for your answer. 

“Sorry,” Your voice is low and throaty as you try to grind your hips against him, but he’s holding you too steady. “Thank you, Daddy.”

He hums in approval, and for a wonderful moment you think he’s going to let you come - but then his hand is dropping and you cry out in disappointment. 

“Not yet, princess.” He enjoys edging, keeping you in a perpetual state of arousal. You whine, and he shakes his head knowingly at you. 

Boba helps you off his thighs, and you wince as you sit between his legs, though the cool floor does soothe your abused skin a little. He spreads them for you and you scoot closer, eyes flicking from the bulge in his pants up to his beautiful, parted lips. 

A thick hand descends, wrapping in the fabric at your shoulders, tugging his shirt off of you. You shiver as the cool air hits your flesh, raising more goosebumps over your arms and legs. His hands return, one wrapping around the back of your head while the other traces the soft, bare column of your neck. 

“Tell me, _mesh’la_.” His hand tightens around your hair, tilting your face towards his, “What did that man call you?”

“He called me… he called me a cock slut.” You’re unable to look away, trapped in his intense gaze. 

“Who’s?” His voice was chilling.

“Y-yours.” You breath, and his dark eyes drop to your lips. 

“ _Say my name_ , little one.” His voice is low, a baritone growl. 

“ _Fuck_ ,” you gasp, the word ghosting out from between your lips. “He called me Boba Fett’s little cock slut.”

“Good girl.” He soothes, his voice pleased, “And _are_ you?”

“ _Yes_ ,” You nod the best you can, your core constricting with desire, “Maker, _yes_.”

“Then show me.” He reaches for his belt, loosening the strap as he parts his robes. 

You sigh a moan, lifting up onto your knees and the balls of your feet. Your hands run up his thighs, feeling the tense muscles flex under your touch. 

His hand cups himself, giving his aching cock a stroke as his other hand reaches out towards your lips. You part them for him as his thumb grazes your lower lip, his index finger curling under your chin. Boba’s thumb pushes into your mouth, the pad of his finger dragging over teeth until it’s resting against your tongue. 

Your lips close, cheeks hollowing out as you suck on his digit, your eyes locking with his. He hums, a low rumble in his chest as his thumb moves out and he replaces it with his first two fingers, sinking knuckle by knuckle down your throat. You suck in a breath before closing your lips, tongue running over his fingers. 

Fingers leaving you, his eyes focus on his hand as his thumb rubs against his middle finger, your spit spider-webbing between them. With a groan, he strokes himself roughly with the hand covered in your saliva. 

“Open up, little one.” He rumbles, finally shifting forward and letting you take over for him.

Your hands reach for him, one cupping his balls while the other strokes his shaft, dipping your head down to place an open mouth kiss against his dripping tip. 

Boba is content to lean back, letting himself slide against the back of the chair as his legs spread wider. His head tips back, soft groans falling from tired lips as you take him deeper, your hand wrapping around the base and stroking him into your mouth. 

His hips jerk and he groans a soft “ _fuck_ ” as you take him as deep as you can, his thick cock sliding down your throat. It’s tough to swallow him this way, your gag reflex fights you with every inch, tears already pricking your eyes. 

Fingers card through your hair, gripping the back of your head as his hips thrust the tiniest bit, making your nose brush his lower abdomen. Your throat clenches and you gag around him, the tears finally dropping to your cheeks like diamonds. 

“You look so pretty choking on my cock.” He purrs, loosening his grip so you can suck in a breath. 

Your head bobs, you take as much as you can down your throat, letting him feel you constrict around him as you swallow. Then you’re stroking him, using your spit as lube while your tongue traces the underside and veins running up the shaft.

After a few more pumps, Boba’s hand wraps around his base, easing himself out of your mouth. You shuffle out of his way as he stands, his foot tapping a small button at the base of his pilot’s seat. The seat rotates 90 degrees to the side, his hands guiding it until it locks into place. 

“Up, little one.” He pats the seat with his hand. “Kneel and face the back.”

You rise from the floor, moving to kneel on the leather seat cushion, knees spread wide to brace against the armrests. Your hands wrap around the headrest, and you tilt your hips back as you give them a small wiggle for Boba. 

He hums in approval, hands coming up to run over your breasts, your waist and hips, and then down to your cheeks. He palms the globes of your ass, spreading you open so he can see how wet you are. 

“I think I need to remind you who you belong to.”

You moan at his words, arching your back to present yourself to him. You make a pretty sight, bare and curving against the dark leather of the seat, your cheeks still pink and aching from before. His hands dip down to your thighs, stroking up and towards your center.

“Messy girl.” He smirks, his fingers sliding easily against your pussy, dripping with your arousal. 

And then you’re clutching the back of the chair, nails digging into the leather as he kneels down, his tongue swiping against you and delving into your folds. 

“ _Fuck_ , Daddy.” You mewl, thighs quivering as he holds you still, pressing his face into your cunt and tasting you.

His skillful tongue alternates between pressing into you, _inside you_ , to flat, tight licks against your clit. Boba’s face is buried against you, his face pressing against your flushed skin, his nose skimming your folds as his tongue fucks you. 

You’re still keyed up from earlier, and the low praises sliding from his lips while he licks up make your stomach tighten in want. You head drops to the headrest and your arms shake with tension as you feel the familiar pressure building and building. You send up another silent prayer that this time he will be merciful, and not edge you again - you’re not sure if you can take it. 

Your eyes snap open as a thick finger presses against your entrance, slippery against your slick heat. He slides it in with no resistance, thrusting it deep into you. You whimper, pressing your hand against your lips to silence the sound. It all felt too loud, the room already filled with lewd sounds of his wet tongue and fingers pleasuring you. 

“ _No_ ,” he snarls, his hand slapping against your thigh. “I want to hear every sweet sound you make.”

So you let go, allowing the feeling building in your chest to escape, the air exiting your lungs in one long, beautiful moan. Your mouth hangs open, breath coming in shallow pants as he adds another, hooking them in you, searching for the spot that makes you cry out. He finds it, and _fuck_ , you’re not going to last. 

“ _Fuck_ Boba,” you’re whimpering, eyes screwing up and hands clenching on the headrest. “I-I’m gonna-”

“Come for your _King_ , princess.” He growls against you, his teeth nipping the soft skin of your thighs, fingers curling into you again before he gives your clit one final, long lick.

You see stars as you come, your vision darkening as the pleasure overtakes you. His fingers slip from you, moving to your clit to stroke you through it. Boba stands as you shake, and presses you flat against the back of the chair. Your cunt is still fluttering as his tip presses against you, and he can feel you tighten around him as he pushes himself in, inch by inch. 

“Always so fucking _tight_ , princess.” He praises, teeth scraping your shoulder as his hands find your hips. He yanks you against him, pushing himself deeper with a low grunt. 

You moan, still achingly tender, as he sheaths himself in you, his cock filling you completely. Before you can adjust to the feeling he is sliding out to the tip, before jerking his hips against yours, jolting your body as he fills you again. 

Boba picks up the pace as he ruts into you, one large palm spanning the curve of your hip, fingers digging in for purchase. The other curves under your arm, coming up to cup your breast. It rests perfectly in his palm, goosebumps prickling down your back as his thumb swipes across the aching, tight peak. 

“Couldn’t wait to get home to my sweet little _whore_.” He rumbles in your ear, one hand pinching your nipple so hard you yelp. His fingers smooth over it, stroking away the pain, then groping and squeezing. 

His voice drops, honey-smooth in your year, “I bet _you_ touched yourself every night, thinking of me.”

“ _Yes_ ”, you keen, rocking against him. “But it… it wasn’t-”

“But it wasn’t enough, was it princess?”

You shake your head, he was right. Wrapped up in your shared bunk, you had tried to relieve some of the ache while he was gone. You knew how to get yourself off, but it wasn’t the same as when Boba did it, his strong, skilled fingers coaxing toe-curling orgasms out of you.

“You just can’t reach all the places _Daddy_ can, can you? You need his big, _thick_ cock to feel good.” 

He hits that spot in you, and your answer dies on your tongue, leaving a low, keening moan instead. 

“Have you gone cock dumb, little one?” He rumbles a laugh, a deep, throaty sound that makes you ache, “Thinking about nothing else other than me filling you.”

Your chest heaves, pleasure sparking down your spine as you finally find your voice, “Stars, _yes_. Need you to fill me, need you to take me.”

His arm ducks under yours, his hand coming up to wrap around your throat. His hands are large, this one spanning the length of your neck completely, his thumb hooking under your jawline. Fingers give an experimental squeeze, more an anchor than anything else as he pulls you flush against his chest, his armor biting into your skin. 

Boba’s head drops in a groan, his lips finding a spot behind your ear and presses wet, open-mouthed kisses against it. Then, his teeth are nipping your soft skin, leaving a prickle running up your back as his tongue swipes against the spot. He sucks bruises onto you, marking your neck with bites that will blossom into shades of burgundy and violet later. 

All the while he fucks you, hips rocking up into your heat. 

A groan rips from your chest, you want to - _need to_ feel him, only him. You were so close, just a little more. One of your shaky hands drops from the back of the chair, coming up to rest against the back of his hand, slotting your small fingers against his rough ones. 

“So close.” You whimper, tightening your fingers over his so he grips your neck, choking you, “Need _more_ Daddy, please.” 

“You’re playing with fire, _Cyare_ ,” He grunts behind you, his cock grinding deep in you, “Are you sure?”

“ _Gedet'ye_ ,” You gasp, sucking in a gasp of air as you beg. “Need to come.”

He hums, a deep low sound of approval, and it quickly becomes obvious that he’s been holding back. His hips snap against yours, shoving him deeper than he’s ever been. Boba has a tight grip around your neck, not enough to _really_ choke you, but he’s pressing the muscles on the sides _just_ right.

You can feel your release building with each thrust, and then his other hand leaves your waist to dip down, pressing against your clit. He circles your bud with his fingertips as his cock fucks into you, knocking roughly against the soft spot inside you that makes you see stars.

“Come on my cock, little one.” His voice is a growl on your ear, “ _Now_.”

His command, combined with the pressure on your clit is too much, your eyes snap shut as the waves of pleasure _finally_ roll over you, sending shockwaves down your limbs. His hand loosens as you come undone, and the wail that leaves your lips echoes loudly around the room. 

“Such a dirty, filthy girl. I can feel your tight little cunt gripping me.” He praises, pushing his face against the back of your neck, his hot breath coming out in puffs against your skin. 

You continue to flutter around him a few seconds longer before you slump, exhausted, against the headrest, your arms wrapping around the leather. 

He allows you a few moments of rest, grinding his hips in slow circles against you. When you catch your breath, his hands press against your hips and your back, roughly shoving you flush against the smooth leather of the chair. 

Boba holds you still, fucking up and into you as you wrap your arms around the back of the seat for balance. Your body bounces against the padding, completely trapped as he uses you for his pleasure. 

His breath turns ragged, one hand worming it’s way up to cup a breast, and squeezing. His other hand grips your hip, fingers tight enough to bruise. 

“Going to come inside your sweet pussy, _mesh’la_.” He promises, his voice strained as he concentrates. “Make you _mine_ , want _my_ come to be dripping out of you all night.”

“Yours,” You try to rock back to meet him while you beg. “Need you to come in me, Daddy. _Please_.”

You arch your body against his and clench down hard around his thick length. His thrusts falter, his breath a low, tortured growl in your ear. 

“ _Fuck_ ,” his lips press against the curve of your neck, hot air prickling your skin as he pants. “Be a good girl, _take it_.”

He snarls as his hips snap one more time against yours, his hands bruisingly tight as he comes undone. Teeth bite down on the freckled skin of your shoulder as low growls slip from his throat, his cock pulsating deep within you as he comes in hot, thick ropes. His hips snap loudly against yours as he thrusts one more time, pushing his cock deep within you. 

You hold still as he comes down, enjoying the feeling of his weight against your back. Your forehead rests against the headrest, sticky with drops of sweat, muscles aching in a deliciously sweet way. 

Boba’s arms wind around your waist as he gently slides out of you, before tugging you around to face him. You offer him a shy smile, pulling his scarred face to yours as you reach to kiss him. His lips are soft and _Maker_ , you missed this - missed him while was gone. 

His mouth parts for you, your tongue swiping against his with a soft groan. You can feel a weight leaving his shoulders with his sigh, and his lips shift against yours as he tucks himself away. Breaking the kiss, he pulls you against him as he shuffles the two of you around so he’s sitting in the pilot’s seat again, and you’re sitting on his lap. 

Your head rests against his shoulder, cheek pressing against the cool metal of his pauldron, completely content. His thick arms wrap around you, there’s not really room for two, but neither of you are ready to let go just ye, thought you won’t say it out loud.

Relaxing in a post-orgasmic haze, you think back to what got you into this situation in the first place. Your teeth worry your lip, eyebrows knitting together as you glance up at Boba. He’s watching you, head tilting and eyes half-lidded, the slightest edge of his lips curled up. 

“What’s going to happen to them?” You weren’t sure if you wanted to ask, but the words tumble out before you can stop them. 

His lips drop, teeth gritting in an “oh, _them_ ” kind of way. Boba’s hand comes up to rest against your neck, finger running against your jawline, admiring his handiwork from earlier against the soft skin of your throat. 

“Don’t worry little one,” He chuckles darkly, “I’m sure we can work something out.”

“Their bounty is good whether they’re alive or dead. But something… tells me they learned their lesson.”

Boba’s head hilts as his eyes scan your face, brows slightly raised. His unspoken question hung in the air - _they learned their lesson, but did you?_

You lips curl in a small smirk, and you tuck your head against his shoulder and the broad expanse of his chest. You did, of course. But if _that’s_ how he handled your punishment, well then... he would just have to wait and see. 

**Author's Note:**

>  **References:**  
>  **Caf** \- coffee  
>  **Falleen** \- a green, reptilian humanoid species. Capable of producing powerful hormones that they use to attract mates  
>  **Nashtah** \- a 6-legged reptile that resembles a crocodile (meant the phrase to be similar to “crocodile tears” but in the SW universe)  
>  **Mesh’la** \- Mando’a for “Beautiful”  
>  **Cyare** \- Mando’a for “Beloved” or “Sweetheart”  
>  **Gedet'ye** \- Mando’a for “Please”
> 
> God I love Daddy!Boba fics.  
> If I missed any tags please let me know, I struggled with this one.
> 
> [Check me out on Tumblr under @TibbieTibbs!](https://tibbietibbs.tumblr.com/)


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